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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702551">Corded Magic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBe/pseuds/IShouldBe'>IShouldBe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Romance, Ron-bashing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBe/pseuds/IShouldBe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A first kiss should be...uncomplicated.</p>
<p>SS/HG HEA...Always. Ron Bashing-as ever. One shot. COMPLETE</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>855</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Corded Magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>Hermione drew in a harsh breath…and held it.</p>
<p>Too loud. In the silence and the dark, they'd hear. He'd hear. And the last thing she wanted was yet another angered ramble from one Ron Weasley declaring that they were destined. Oh, and why couldn't she see it, and agree with it. <em>What was wrong with her?</em></p>
<p>Her jaw clenched.</p>
<p>Yes, that was the question. And the answer had her hiding out in a shadowed and dusty alcove of Grimmauld Place's library.</p>
<p>Because, it, him, <em>Ron</em>, was supposed to be what she wanted. What she'd craved, who she'd craved for too many of her school years. And now with the end of the war and finally, <em>finally</em> that kiss and the sign that he was, at last, interested in her…she'd panicked. Run away. Found that the last thing she wanted was to cuddle up to Ron and be his girlfriend.</p>
<p>It hadn't made any sense.</p>
<p>What had scared her?</p>
<p>She'd made the mistake —or had the good fortune— to tear through Ginny's enormous pile of <em>Witch Weeklys</em> in the hunt for an answer. Every girl she knew swore by the magazine's advice and she'd hoped to find something that pointed out a path to follow.</p>
<p>And she found it. In a way.</p>
<p>It wasn't about sex. Gods, no, she was ready for sex. She was. Merlin, more than ready. If she were a cat she'd be dragging her backside on the floor and yowling—</p>
<p>Hermione slapped a hand to her mouth to hold back the snort that almost broke free.</p>
<p>No, it wasn't that. Though, if she were truthful —and from reading between the lines from Lavender's whispered conversations with Parvati— perhaps Ron was not the most skilled wizard. But it would've been about learning and exploration…and that was a good thing. And time, time would make it better.</p>
<p>A heavy hand closed around her heart.</p>
<p>There was the first part of it.</p>
<p>Time.</p>
<p>Everyone, from Ron down, saw them as set in stone.</p>
<p>A forever romance born from the ashes of the war.</p>
<p>Not a…a youthful crush that could, might —gods, she had to be truthful with herself there in the dark— would've faltered.</p>
<p>Because of their kiss.</p>
<p>Even muggles had the stories of that magical first kiss. <em>Witch Weekly</em> packed every page it could with the old magicks of a couple's first brush of the lips, labelling it as everything from a full marriage contract to, the fusing of souls, to the founding of a new House in the list of the Sacred Twenty Eight. Every witch was steeped in the lore of it.</p>
<p>She'd been certain that wasn't what had her running, though her instincts itched and something, <em>something</em> in her magic thrummed at the idea of it.</p>
<p>But Hermione, being herself, had huffed at the idea and headed off to the library to prove that it was all so much fluff.</p>
<p>Only it wasn't.</p>
<p>She'd found the proof of it hidden in a little-looked-at etiquette volume. A slender thing, bound in greyed leather and its gold lettering only a shadowed imprint on the cover.</p>
<p>A kiss with the wrong wizard or witch, corded magic. Knotted it. And kept on knotting and fouling it with very subsequent kiss. Only the proper, the first kiss with the one meant to kiss you…unknotted it. Smoothed it and released the…the fouling of magic.</p>
<p>And it was there —in between the swirling, handwritten lines— that every subsequent wrong kiss only twisted and bent her magic. Kept on knotting and fouling it.</p>
<p>Oh, she hadn't wanted to believe it. If it were true, it would be front and centre at the mortifying talk Madam Pomfrey gave every second year girl. But there hadn't been a whisper of it. Though there had been far too much detail in that ages-long talk on the myriad uses of menstrual blood.</p>
<p>Hermione shuddered and pushed her mind back to her problem.</p>
<p>There was a spell, a diagnostic charm, set beneath the detailed paragraphs on the dangers of knotted magic. The stunting. The wiping away of life-years. The twisted weight of the wrong magic in the flesh.</p>
<p>With the doubts she had about Ron, she'd sought out Professor Flitwick. He confirmed it was a variation on the medical charm, one even he'd never seen. And it worked. He'd broken it down, proven it true and tested it first on himself and then her.</p>
<p>Cords of white, constricted magic wrapped around her core. He, his magic was smooth and clear, whether to do with his goblin heritage…or Mrs Flitwick was his perfect fit, she didn't know.</p>
<p>And gods, she could hardly tell Ron that his kiss —his and Viktor's— had caused such bloodless knots in her magic.</p>
<p>She'd stammered on at Flitwick about the book…and fled.</p>
<p>That had been three days ago. Ron had been avoided ever since.</p>
<p>"If you wish to remain hidden, you should endeavour to breathe more quietly."</p>
<p>Hermione sucked in a startled breath and fought back a riot of panic. It rose hot and quick up through her chest. Her heart pounded and the prick of sweat coated her neck. Gods, this was <em>not</em> the wizard she wanted to find her hiding as if she were an errant first year.</p>
<p>She froze, willing him to move on.</p>
<p>But…this was Severus Snape. Of course he would needle her.</p>
<p>"Am I then to…pretend that you are doing your best impression of the Black library wallpaper?" Even his next pause was sarcastic. "Oh, where can Miss Granger be? She has vanished as the mist under the first warmth of the morning sun…"</p>
<p>Hermione ground her teeth, pushed back her shoulders and stepped out of her alcove.</p>
<p>Lamplight gilded the irritating man and that bloody smirk. His black eyes danced. An infamous eyebrow arched. "Your…groom I believe is currently stampeding through every room in search of his errant bride."</p>
<p>Hermione's lips pressed together, anger and another emotion, one she was not willing to name, churning through her thoughts. If she opened her mouth, words would lash out and the terror of what she could…would reveal kept her silent.</p>
<p>Snape's eyes narrowed. "I did not take you for a coward, Miss Granger."</p>
<p>"Perhaps you could break through his thick skull and explain to him that we are not…meant!"</p>
<p>Hermione slapped her hand to her mouth and crushed her eyes shut. She should be…grateful that other words hadn't burst out from her. Because his words stung. She wasn't a coward. She wasn't. She…well, she was about one particular thing.</p>
<p>"Even after six years of teaching him, I don't believe I pushed a single fact into his brain, Miss Granger." Snape gave a mocking bow of his head. "I'm afraid I'm of no use to you."</p>
<p>His black eyes fixed on her. Sharp, gleaming and so at odds with his words. Hermione's belly flip-flopped. There was something…knowing in that gaze and with what she now knew, would he, would his kiss foul and corrupt her magic even further?</p>
<p>Because that would be her luck, wouldn't it?</p>
<p>The one wizard that had always intrigued her would very likely shrivel and cord her magic beyond recognition.</p>
<p>"I had a rather interesting conversation with Filius this morning."</p>
<p>Snape's head tilted and those eyes held her again. Sharp and knowing. A hard hot pain in her chest reminded Hermione that breathing was, in fact, mandatory. Shit. Fuck. He knew. He knew about the charm and very likely about the knotted mess that was her magic.</p>
<p>Was he there to gloat?</p>
<p>How twisted and wrought was his magic? Had anyone ever kissed Severus Snape?</p>
<p>His lip quirked upwards.</p>
<p><em>Legilimens</em>. The most powerful one alive.</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuckity fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>"It's a curious charm, the one you uncovered."</p>
<p>He stepped closer and the sudden reality of him, the brush of his frock coat against her shirt, the snag of buttons, the tantalising heat of his body surged over her. His scent, herbs and parchment, invaded her and she swayed…until his large hand eased around her shoulder.</p>
<p>His warmth bled through to her skin and her heart was a drum, wild and manic in her ears. The lamplight shone in the black depths of his eyes and he was close, so very close. The blue-black prick of stubble stained his pale jaw and something so…masculine pulsed a throb of want low in her belly.</p>
<p>She wet her lips and for a dragged moment, his gaze stopped there…before he found her eyes again.</p>
<p>"Did your book offer a way to find the one who would…<em>unknot</em> you?"</p>
<p>How…how did he make that sound absolutely filthy? His voice. The voice that invaded her dreams. Smoky velvet wrapping around her and pricking her skin with want, coupled with the tease of a smirk on his quite-kissable lips.</p>
<p>Hermione shook her head and a tendril of hair caught on her cheek. A mewl escaped her when he eased it free and tucked it behind her ear. The slip of his smooth-tipped fingers, warm and sure against her skin, spiralled her thoughts. <em>Him</em>. She wanted to kiss him. And her knotted magic could fuck off and knit itself into a Weasley jumper.</p>
<p>She did not care.</p>
<p>"With only you as his example— as he is disgustingly happy with his wife— Filius showed me your magical core."</p>
<p>Hermione blinked. <em>What?</em> "He should not—"</p>
<p>Snape pressed a finger to her lips and she squeaked. That gittish smirk was there again. It was not sexy. It wasn't. Irritating man.</p>
<p>"He did not identify you. However, who else would be in the school library in the summer, hunting out obscure texts?" His finger drew a soft line along her bottom lip, his gaze tracing its path. "I asked him to perform the charm on me. I was curious. And to his surprise, our cores were a mirror image."</p>
<p>"What…?"</p>
<p>"I…convinced him —for the moment— that the corruption is something standard and the mirroring? Determined by sex."</p>
<p>Hermione squeaked. She couldn't help it. That voice, his voice should not murmur the word 'sex'. He shouldn't. It should be illegal. In fact, she was sure quite it was—</p>
<p>His words worked their way through the hormonal soup that was her brain. "His surprise? His surprise, but not yours."</p>
<p>He didn't answer her question, but instead planted his hands planted either side of her on the wall. He leaned in, closer, closer still, untll his breath brushed her cheek. "In the interests of magical theory, I believe we should follow all avenues of investigation. And," he paused, and in the silence there was only the sound of her shallow, nervous breaths, "I have often wondered how you would taste…<em>Hermione</em>."</p>
<p>She sucked in a breath at his use of her name. It wove through her flesh, new and strange and wanted. Ached for. And there, he wanted to kiss her. Kiss her to see if he was the one who would free her magic…and if she would free his. They were a mirror.</p>
<p>"A…a <em>thorough</em> test?"</p>
<p>His slow, dark smile flared heat to her face. "So <em>very</em> thorough."</p>
<p>And Severus' —he was Severus because he was going to kiss her— his lips brushed hers, a warm slide of perfection.</p>
<p>A sigh escaped her, because, because the taste of his magic was sweet and sure and the tightness in her chest, in her limbs, the drag that had weighted her for so long…was gone. Vanished.</p>
<p>She grinned up at him and blinked. He looked…younger. Less weary, lines smoothed and the shadow that she'd hardly been aware of, it was lifted.</p>
<p>"You…"</p>
<p>Severus pressed his forehead to hers and her heart squeezed. "Sweet girl."</p>
<p>"Mione…?"</p>
<p>Her shoulders sagged. <em>Of course</em> Ron would back track to the library and now she was caught in a compromising position with Severus Snape. A giggle escaped her and Severus drew back, and his eyes, his eyes were shadowed.</p>
<p>Did he think she was playing a game with him? No…<em>no</em>.</p>
<p>She pressed her hand to his jaw, the prick of beard growth there under her palm. Making him real. Making him human. As he had done to her, her thumb traced over the kissable perfection of his lower lip. How could he doubt her, doubt them, when the weightlessness of their magic was right there in their flesh?</p>
<p>Because that was how everyone had always treated him. A game. A pawn.</p>
<p>She pressed her lips together for murmuring, "I am…unknotted."</p>
<p>"Mione!"</p>
<p>Ron's shocked bark caused Severus' lips to twitch upwards. Did it sound filthy? She did hope so.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Ron." She looked to him frozen and mottled red in the doorway. Sagging to one side, with his hand wrapped bloodless around the frame. And she was sorry. She was. They'd been friends almost from the beginning. Almost. Truthfully, they should never have been anything more. "You know that we don't feel right together. Find…find the person who's first kiss makes you feel…weightless."</p>
<p>She glanced up at Severus, caught with a nervous tightness in her chest, the sudden attack of shyness making it difficult to hold his gaze. "I have."</p>
<p>Severus' shoulders lifted and a slow smile pulled at his mouth. "As have I."</p>
<p>"Mental. You've gone mental. I'm getting mum—"</p>
<p>"You will do no such thing, Mr Weasley."</p>
<p>Ron froze in the doorway, caught as everyone always was by the dark threat in Severus' voice. "A witch had chosen and her decision will be respected. By everyone."</p>
<p>Ron's face flared to puce, and the grinding of his teeth was audible, but he jerked a nod. Casting a narrow-eyed glare at her, he grabbed the door and slammed it shut.</p>
<p>Severus flicked a negligent hand at it and wards slithered and tightened around the wood. Hermione sagged against the wall and another groan escaped her. Fuck, it would all be such an utter mess now—</p>
<p>And Severus was silent.</p>
<p>More fucks.</p>
<p>"Severus." She paused, at the first use of his name out loud. So strange, yet so right in myriad ways. "Severus, I don't regret this, you, the kiss, nothing. I will admit to finding you…of interest for an embarrassingly long time."</p>
<p>"<em>Indeed?</em>"</p>
<p>Oh that was a quite delicious rumble, wasn't it?</p>
<p>And he was leaning in again, the scent of him, his warmth and the perfection of his magic wrapping around her.</p>
<p>"Are we going to be…thorough again?"</p>
<p>"That, and so very <em>rigorous</em>."</p>
<p>Heat flared through her flesh and her face scorched. She pressed her hand to his chest, to the solid realness of him and she could barely think over the thudding of her heart. And the rather hot, tight and insistent throb low in between her thighs. She fought the need to squirm. "I have never..."</p>
<p>"I know." Severus pulled her to him and pressed his lips to her forehead, before he smirked down at her. "Would you object to staying in my bed till the end of the week? Purely for magically therotically purposes..."</p>
<p>Hermione grinned in return. "To further magical knowledge? Of course not. I <em>am</em> a swot, you know."</p>
<p>"And longer, if need be?" His dark eyes softened and the vulnerable shine there made her heart ache. "A lifetime?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>No joking, just the simple answer. Straight forward. Uncomplicated. Because finally, they were.</p>
<p>A stampede of footsteps beat loud beyond the door. <em>Fuck</em>. Not the rest of the packed house. Not now.</p>
<p>But Severus turned, whipped up a fierce rush of magic...and the only sign of them left in the room was a swirl of falling dust and the echo of Hermione's delighted laughter.</p>
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